The Black Legacy
by Francesca Monterone
Summary: Betrayal and deep rooted plots have led to a different outcome of the second war than many expected. The Dark Lord rules supreme, Dumbledore was defeated and slain, his followers hunted down and slaughtered or imprisoned. The Light seems to have been overcome by darkness... but resistance is a flame that may be rekindled when the time is ripe...
1. Prelude: Maydew

**Disclaimer:** This is a Harry Potter fanfiction. I do not own the Harry Potter verse, it belongs to J.K. Rowling and her publishers. I'm glad they don't seem to object to people writing fanfictions, though, since I'm having a tremendous amount of fun writing this one.

**Rating**: is T for now. It may go up later.

No warnings as of yet, but this is an AU story. We are still in the Harry Potter verse, but it's changed quite a bit. Characters took different terms than they did in the books and these are some of the possible outcomes.

**Summary:** Betrayal and deep rooted plots have led to a different outcome of the second war than many expected. The Dark Lord rules supreme, Dumbledore was defeated and slain, his followers hunted down and slaughtered or imprisoned. Muggleborns and the pure and halfblood followers of the Light are given as slaves to those loyal to the Dark Lord. The Light seems to have overcome by darkness and faded away... and yet there are some who still resist, and others who are beginning to doubt. In a world without much hope, every one of them struggles to stay alive, fearful of betrayal and its consequences. Lucius Malfoy wants revenge for the death of his beloved wife, Draco Malfoy wants to regain what he has lost, Neville Longbottom wants to protect the last person he cares for, Luna Lovegood wants to understand, Hermione Granger wants to overthrow the government, Severus Snape wants to make amends, Marcus Flint wants to keep his secret, Astoria Greengrass and Blaise Zabini want to live and Daphne Greengrass wants to love... their paths cross and they may have a common goal, but trust is hard to come by in an age of treason...

* * *

1. Prelude: Maydew

set about 1954

_"Everyone knows all about elves. Or so they like to think._

_Elves are wonderful. They provoke wonder._  
_Elves are marvellous. They cause marvels._  
_Elves are fantastic. They create fantasies._  
_Elves are glamorous. They project glamour._  
_Elves are enchanting. They weave enchantment._  
_Elves are terrific. They beget terror._  
_No one ever said elves are nice._  
_Elves are bad."_

_Terry Pratchett_

* * *

For centuries, the Black family clan had been an essential part of the tight-knit circle of fabulously rich and almost infinitely powerful ancient houses that ruled Britain.

Yet when Cygnus Black assumed the Lordship upon the untimely death of his elder brother Mortimer, the decline had already begun.

Freed of his brother's dominating influence and shrewd supervision, Cygnus set out to explore his newfound liberty. He was generous with his money, extravagant in his tastes and habits and conservative in politics. While no one could deny him his well-earned reputation as a diligent and committed worker and a shrewd statesman, who would continue to rise within the Ministry, the issue of his marriage to nineteen year old Druella Rosier caused considerable ripples on the murky waters of pureblood society.

She was a tall woman, slender and graceful, her words and movements carefully measured, her laughter rare, but rich and luxurious like dark velvet. Sleek black hair flowed over her shoulders, shimmering like polished obsidian. Yes, she was beautiful, queen rose among the flowers of her generation.

Her family bore an ancient and noble name, and most of her ancestors had been distinguished members of Britain's Wizarding society, yet her fortune was small and he would not have married her but for her beauty.

Cygnus Black was a collector of jewels, and this exquisite young woman was to be the centerpiece of his collection. He was proud of her, he delighted in presenting her at parties and receptions, dressed in luxurious tailor-cut robes and glamorous jewelry that accentuated her beauty; but he never loved her.

He never understood the childlike adoration she felt for him, felt bemused at her unconditional hero-worship and fondly, if distractedly noted her unfailing loyalty and puppy-dog devotedness.

He would never have believed her capable of betraying him; not until it happened.

Maybe it was this lack of understanding and compassion on his side, and the unspoiled naiveté of the indulged and overprotected child on hers that eventually led to the betrayal neither of them would have thought to be possible.

It happened in early May, when the old apple-trees in the orchard of Emerald House were in full bloom and the sweet smell of honeysuckle and spring roses permeated the vast gardens. The sky was a velvet canopy of darkening blue, covered in a myriad of stars like diamond pinpricks, and beneath it in the valley, Emerald Lake lay black and gleaming like a dark and silent mirror. On the gently sloping hill stood the Mansion House, its reddish-brown cobblestone walls covered in ivy and vines.

And Lady Druella danced down the garden path that led to the lake, taking deep breaths of the perfumed air.

After dinner, she had kissed her two little girls good-night, then the nurses had led them away and put them to bed.

As her husband was once again away on business in London, the young mistress of the house was left with too much spare time. Without her husband's commanding presence in the house, she was missing her other half, the center of her universe, the planet around which she – little moon that she was – revolved. A strange sense of insecurity and anxiousness overcame her whenever she wandered the empty rooms in Cygnus' absence. These little evening walks helped her to relax; the sight of the beautiful country surrounding Emerald House produced a calming effect on her high-strung fancy.

She was just entering the orchard, when she saw a shadow move between the trees. She started, then decided that it had probably been a bird or some other wild animal; maybe even one of the deer that sometimes ventured near the house.

_Nothing to be scared of_, Druella tried to calm herself, while instinctively reaching for her wand. She wasn't very good with the more complicated spells or potions, but she knew enough to ward off any unwelcome Muggle or animal intruders.

Once again, something moved between the trees, and this time, Druella managed to discern a shadowy figure, garbed in a billowing grey cloak. Raising her wand, she summoned all her courage and called out: "You are trespassing on Black land! Who are you?"

The shadow halted its movement, then slowly edged closer and straightened itself into the familiar figure of a tall, broad-shouldered man.

"That's funny, I figured it was _my_ land."

Druella shuddered as she heard her husband's voice. There was a strange edge to it, but moreover, he wasn't supposed to be here. It was not possible.

"Cygnus! Of course it is, but what are you doing here? I mean… of course I'm happy to see you and I didn't…", Druella blundered.

He threw back his head and laughed at her silliness, and of course, Druella didn't know how to react. She still felt like the awkward child she had been when they had first met.

"My wife doesn't seem too happy to see me," he remarked.

"No! Of course I'm happy… I missed you, you know," she replied guilelessly.

"Did you now? Well bless you, my love. Come." He held out a hand and as soon as she had grasped it with trembling fingers, he forcibly pulled her close. Druella stared up at him, her beautiful eyes very large, almost frightened.

And again he laughed, before clasping her firmly in his arms and bending down to kiss her. Druella did not protest, but she could not rid herself of the feeling that something was amiss.

"How did you get here?" She asked him, her voice somewhat breathless. Cygnus was not usually this passionate and unreserved with her. Oh, she knew well that he admired her beauty and that he was not immune to her charms – he was a man, after all – but she felt that he never truly let down his guard, not even when he was with her.

"Does it matter, now that I _am_ here?" He replied teasingly, before lifting her chin with one hand and kissing her once again. There was a taste to his kisses that made Druella's head spin, made her forget that her husband was acting odd and that he was supposed to be far away, dealing with important Ministry business. It made her forget who she was, and where they were, and that they were standing in the orchard, in plain sight for every servant of the Manor who happened to look out of a window or door. A soft spring breeze rustled through the leaves of the fruit trees and enveloped them a shower of dancing apple blossoms. Their smell was sweet, light, intoxicating. The air was permeated with magic, and Druella could hear it in the wind, taste it on the tip of her tongue, even see it, when her husband's eyes that were supposed to be dark blue, took on a rich, golden color like liquid amber.

Maybe there was even a tiny voice of warning, somewhere at the back of her mind, cautioning her and saying _You are not my husband_. If there was, the magic suppressed it, though, drowned it in smells and sensations, and the lonely young mistress of the manor was only too happy to let herself slip away into a fairy kingdom, even if it were just for one night. She was not Lady Druella Black anymore. She was merely an adventurous human girl who had ventured too far on her evening stroll and walked straight into the Kingdom Under the Hills. She forgot about her duties, her upbringing, even her two young daughters, who lay asleep in their beds.

For such is the magic of the Fair Folk that it will make you forget even what you cherish most and turn you into a willing plaything of its masters.

Cygnus Black was but a human wizard of average talent and reasonable learning. The being – for you could not in truth call him a man, since he was so much more than that - who was wearing his body that night like one might wear a clock and hood, however, was not.


	2. Blood Money

_2. Blood Money_

_Set ca. 2001_

The sound of footsteps on a marble floor cut through the eerie hush that permeated the vast halls of the Ministry these days.

Black shoes on white marble; click, clack, a confident, even stride.

Expensive black shoes, made of the finest leather, smooth, dark and shiny; well kept shoes, tightly laced and in their snobbish magnificence almost as intimidating as their owner.

He was a tall man, tall and slender, his movements graceful and unhurried, but conveying a no-nonsense attitude. He held himself very upright, shoulders squared, back ramrod straight, for he knew all too well that he was moving into the lion's den, right into the heart of the night that had fallen over the land upon his Lord's ascension.

And yet he was a lord himself, rich, powerful, shrewd in politics and intrigue, a puppet master with a brilliant mind. He was not cut out to be a servant, but that was what he had become. Maybe that was the reason behind his haughty stride, behind the cold, dispassionate look on his face, behind the arrogant sweep of his glossy blond hair.

They were watching him from the shadows, from behind pillars and half-opened doors; and he knew it. He knew that he had to put on a show of strength, had to impress them.

He heard the whispers.

"Confident, isn't he?"

"Ha! He shouldn't be, the filthy traitor…!"

"Careful, careful, Avery. He's still _Lord_ Malfoy. He may have lost some of our Lord's favor lately, and with it his interest, but he hasn't lost protection, and I doubt he ever will. He has played too important a role in reinstating the Dark Lord to power."

"What do you think he's come for?"

"To collect the blood money, I suppose."

"Blood money?"

"For his wife and son. The Dark Lord already punished the Carrows for their transgression, but Malfoy is still entitled to compensation."

"As if he weren't rich enough as it is!"

"I don't make the rules, do I? Besides, I think it's fair. Narcissa was a pureblood, and of a very noble line, after all. And Malfoy has lost his only heir."

"He's not dead."

"No, but he might as well be."

"Come off it, Blake, the boy was useless, anyway. He failed our Lord, the whiny little coward. Malfoy's probably better off without him."

Inside his coat sleeve, Lucius Malfoy balled his fist so hard it almost hurt. The whispering continued, following him into the adjacent rooms and hallways, but he strained to ignore it. His lips pressed together tightly, he moved even faster, until he reached the former Minister's office, which had been redecorated in order to make a suitable audience room for its new master.

"Malfoy." The man by the window did not turn as he entered the room. "Come for your prize, I see."

"Greetings, my Lord," Lucius Malfoy acknowledged him, bowing his head.

The Dark Lord gave an impatient wave of his hand. "Yes, yes," he hissed, "you will have noticed that I am always busy these days, Malfoy, so get on with it. Have you chosen?"

"Yes indeed."

"So name your prize."

"A life for a life. You would not give me the Carrows in return for Narcissa and Draco, and I do understand… to a certain degree. They are indeed still valuable to you. But I must have my right. I was happy to see them punished, if not fully avenged. I now ask for the second part of my compensation."

"I already gave you the boy," the Dark Lord stated dispassionately.

Lucius bowed his head. "Yes, and a very generous gift that was. I did, and still do appreciate it. But you will understand that one slave could not pay for my losses. Not a hundred slaves could pay for my wife and son. My only heir."

Voldemort shrugged. "You could always remarry, my friend. You are not an old man yet. You could have a dozen little Malfoy brats populating your Manor, if you chose. But a word of advice, Lucius? Make sure to teach them better than the last one. That one was a… disappointment. Not the son one would expect to spring from such a noble line."

"I do not wish to remarry," Lucius replied, ignoring the comment about Draco, "not yet, at least."

"So, what do you ask of me?"

"The girl I asked for. A small favor to grant, since she is nothing to you, my Lord."

"Ah, but I gave her to Crabbe…"

Lucius shrugged haughtily. "Do I care about Crabbe?"

His master chuckled eerily. "Lucius, Lucius… your pride will be your downfall one of these days. So you ask me to take her away from Crabbe?"

"Give him something else to play with. He will not care, as long as it's free."

"Have you not read the Iliad, Lucius? Wars can stem from such dealings."

"The Iliad had many heroes. It did not have Lord Voldemort to rule the raging storm of war."

"You always did have a smooth tongue," the Dark Lord noted, but he sounded faintly pleased. "Alright Lucius – if it's your heart's desire and you promise not to bother me with any further demands, you may have the girl. But do permit me a question… why this one? What makes her so special?"

Again, Lucius shrugged. "She is not particularly special, my Lord. But have you looked at her?"

"Not too closely. What would I have seen?"

"Probably not much, considering that your interests lie... elsewhere. But she _is _attractive. Or she would be, if she were clean and dressed properly, but that can and will be easily arranged."

And now, the Dark Lord laughed, but it lasted only a short while, and there was no comfort in the sound. "Why, Lucius…! You are not as puritanical as you would make us believe, are you?"

"I am a man, my Lord," Lucius replied negligently, "and if I want something, then I will set my mind on getting it. Particularly, if it belongs to somebody else. I want this girl. I may not get her first, but I am quite certain that there is enough left to amuse me for a certain amount of time."

"Very well. I will see to it that she is given to you. I leave you to your own devices, Lucius. Amuse yourself… but be sure to come when I call for you."

Lucius bowed low. "I shall always be at your service, my Lord."

* * *

All and everything around her was dark, but for the tiny light flickering timidly on her palm. The flame was too small to shed much light on her surroundings, but she knew her prison well enough by now to know exactly where everything was situated. There wasn't that much furniture, anyway.

She tried to concentrate on the flame, to pour all the energy, love and other positive emotion she had left into it, to make it last just a little while longer. She knew she couldn't bear the darkness. The silence, the emptiness. It was the worst part of her captivity.

The flame flickered, as her hand trembled, and she made an effort to keep it still. They had taken her wand away long ago, but she had found that she could do some tiny bits of wandless magic, something that she had never bothered to try before her captivity. And if she had, she would probably not have succeeded. Maybe desperation sharpened a person's magical abilities. After all, magic was something of a natural survival strategy, wasn't it?

Steps sounded on the stairs that led down to her prison, but she tried to ignore them, concentrating on the flame instead.

So they were coming for her again…? Let them come.

All that mattered was to keep the little flame alive and burning.

The steps were closer now, almost at the door. Despite herself, she cocked her head, listening. There were angry voices out there, dampened by the heavy oakwood door. Or maybe just one angry voice, huffing and puffing about unjust treatment and robbery. She had no trouble imagining the speaker – a heavyset, bald man in his late forties, his round face sweaty and red with anger.

Crabbe.

But who was he arguing with? His son…? A fellow death eater?

She looked down at her palm – the little flame was extinguished. It filled her with a strange sadness to see the tiny light gone.

Creaking, the door swung open and a different light was cast into her prison. A white light, an unfriendly light. Surrounded by that light like an ominous halo and framed by the doorframe, she saw two men. One of them was indeed Crabbe, his face almost purple with rage. The other, tall, silvery blond and pale…

… Lucius Malfoy!

Her very own, personal nemesis had come to haunt her even in her damp and dark prison.

Instinctively, she shrank back.

"You may leave now," a cool, silky voice told the protesting Crabbe.

"This is my house, Malfoy, my house and you damn well…"

"That was not a polite request, Crabbe. Go now, or I shall not be able to guarantee for your health."

Fuming, Crabbe turned and stomped up the stairs.

Lucius Malfoy turned to face the only other person in the room.

"Miss Lovegood, please forgive the intrusion."

Well, he was polite, if nothing else. Though his politeness sent cold shivers down her spine.

"Mr. Malfoy. And I was just about willing to bet that it couldn't get any worse."

Lucius Malfoy smiled a humorless smile. "I would be glad to tell you that I have come to free you, but that would be a lie. You are still a captive, a slave. However, your master has changed."

"And I assume that you are now my master?"

"Indeed." He bowed his head in a curt nod.

"So, you have come to lead me away to another smelly dungeon? Much as I appreciate a change of air, you really needn't have bothered."

"Not exactly a dungeon," Lucius corrected his voice smoother and silkier than a human voice should be, "more like a golden cage."

"No thanks. I'd prefer the dungeon."

"That, my dear, is not an option."

"Well in that case, you will have to drag me out of here kicking and screaming. And I'll make sure to ruin your priceless robe and spoil your artful hairstyle. Maybe I'll even bite off one of your fingers." She fixed him with a defiant glare.

Lucius nodded, not seeming remotely intimidated or upset by her threats. "It is good to see that they have not broken you yet. Maybe the damage can still be undone."

"I am not a china vase, Malfoy, and I refuse to decorate your house as such," she spat.

"Right now, there isn't much to you that would please the eye," he stated calmly, taking in her matted hair and dirt-streaked face. "Crabbe really proves to be the brute I always took him for. No man with an ounce of taste or even common sense would leave a girl to rot in a dark basement. But maybe it was for the better…" He eyed her curiously.

"You looking at me like that makes me sick," she told him.

"Tell me, Miss Lovegood, what grievances do you have against your captor?"

"Why would that concern you?"

"Because I am trying to determine what to do to him. I shall certainly kill him at the next opportune moment, but if he touched you, I will make it slow and painful," Lucius replied serenely.

* * *

_Writers love to experiment, and this story is my experiment. Reviews would be much appreciated, especially, if they contain constructive criticism. I want this to become a good story, one that people will enjoy reading and will remember; and you, my dear readers, can help me achieve that goal. Please tell me how you feel about the two chapters you have read so far! Any questions? Comments? Suggestions? - Love from Ankara, Francesca_


	3. Elf Child

_3. Elf Child _

_Set ca. 1968_

_Sometimes, a moment, a brief flutter of eyelids, the span of a breath, the time it takes a tear to roll down a smooth, youthful cheek, is all it takes to change a life forever. For better or for worse, that one, insignificant moment will etch itself into the clear glass sheet of an untroubled mind and burn its way down to the core, where it will find its resting place in a rapidly beating heart..._

* * *

… The day Lucius first saw the girl was cast in the pale gray light of winter that shone softly on her hair. Snowflakes danced in the frosty air and sprinkled her head like a crown of diamonds when she stepped back into the golden brightness of many candles emanating from the hall. Lucius was watching her from his secure vantage point on the window seat, half hidden behind heavy brocade drapes.

She shrugged her dark blue coat off her shoulders in an elegant, almost catlike gesture and shook out her long blond hair.

Beautiful, so beautiful…

Like a fairy princess come to visit the humble realms of the mere mortals.

"Lu!" – Apparently, he was not as well hidden as he had thought, or maybe Harpy was just too clever for her own good. Lucius glared down at his seven-year-old sister, wishing she had never been born. It was a wish he uttered quite frequently. "Lu, why are you hiding?" Large, round eyes looked up at him, the words spoken with a childish naiveté.

"I am not hiding, Harpy."

She giggled. Why did little girls always have to giggle? "My name is not Harpy. My name is Igraine. Igraine Peony Malfoy!"

"Have you been talking to Aunt Erzsébet again?"

The child nodded emphatically. "Yes, and she says that people should use my proper name, because it is not a-appropriate" - she briefly stumbled over the unknown word – "to call a girl names."

"You're Harpy. Always have been, always will be, no matter what our favorite great-aunt says," Lucius stated. "Now run along and go find Sela."

"Her name is Se-le-na," Harpy corrected him.

"Harpy," Lucius warned, his voice a low growl.

She giggled, but ran off and he sighed in relief. But when he looked up, the fairy princess was gone…

* * *

…"Who is that girl?" Lucius hissed, poking his distant cousin Emmerich Parkinson with his elbow. The heavyset boy looked up from his plate with a mournful expression.

"Which one?"

"The blonde next to Bellatrix Lestrange."

Both boys looked across the heavily laden table, trying to be inconspicuous about it. "That's her sister."

Lucius frowned. "No, I know Andromeda. She looks different. More like Bellatrix. She's not half as pretty as this one."

"Her other sister," Emmerich said, starting to sound faintly exasperated. "Nerissa or Narcissa or something… I can't remember. Haven't you seen her at school? She's in Hogwarts… third year, I think. Why the sudden interest?"

"She is gorgeous." Lucius found it increasingly difficult to keep his eyes off the girl, but he did not want to attract the attention of his various relations seated about the table.

"Ew, Lucius, that's gross! She's thirteen!"

"Shut up, Em."Lucius snapped. "Remind me again – how old is your fiancée? Was it eight?"

"Orchis was nine when we were betrothed," Emmerich replied tight-lipped, "she is fourteen now. And I certainly didn't ask to be betrothed to her when we were both too young to protest. Even if she were my age, I wouldn't want to marry her. And I'm definitely not leering at the poor little girl like you are at this one."

"I am not leering. I just think she's remarkably pretty."

"Oh, so that's why you're undressing her with your eyes? Gee, Lucius, there probably isn't anything to see yet anyway. If you've developed a taste for children now, then excuse me, I'll go warn my little sisters."

Right then, the formal family dinner was interrupted by Emmerich turning purple and sprouting hideous tentacles…

* * *

… "Narcissa! Hurry up, we will be late!"

Lucius' head shot up, and sure enough, he saw a familiar blond head bobbing up and down amid the crowd of Hogwarts students and their families, as the girl ran towards her older sister, who was impatiently waving her to get on the train.

Andromeda Black was a stout seventh-year with a no-nonsense expression. She looked rather like her sister Bellatrix, tall and dark haired; while Narcissa was petite and fair.

- Why have I never noticed her before? - Lucius thought as he admired Narcissa's light, graceful gait.

Andromeda got in, and Narcissa hopped onto the train behind her. Lucius had the sudden, uncontrollable urge to go looking for them, and tell them that there was still lots of space in his compartment. He got up, catching a rather perplexed look from Evan Rosier and Rabastan Lestrange, who sat across from him. Severus Snape was still fully engrossed in his book.

"Where are you going?" Rabastan demanded.

"To talk to Andromeda Black."

"What for?" Rabastan frowned. "To hear her newest theories on mudblood equality?"

Evan giggled girlishly at that. Lucius looked at them both in disdain. "Fools."

He swept out of the compartment with a swish of expensive black robes and began searching the hallway for the two Black girls. He found them soon enough, Andromeda standing at the door to another compartment, filled with Slytherin girls, obviously arguing with them. Narcissa was at her heels, looking uncomfortable.

Time to rescue the damsel in distress…

"Hello," he said, more to Narcissa than to Andromeda, who was still exchanging insults with the other girls. "You must be Bella's sisters."

Narcissa looked up at him, her beautiful grey eyes widening in confusion. "You know my sister…?" She frowned slightly. "I have seen you before…" A helpless look, then her face lit up. "Oh right – you are a prefect."

Lucius chuckled, touching his badge. "Now, that wasn't too hard to deduce, was it? I am Lucius Malfoy."

Narcissa hesitated for a moment, before remembering the code of conduct that had been drilled into her from her earliest childhood on by ever attentive aunts and governesses. She sank into a quick courtesy, apparently feeling a little foolish, and blushing.

"Narcissa Black."

Lucius thought it was adorable and bowed in return.

By now, Andromeda had realized that there was something going on behind her back and turned around.

"Lucius Malfoy," she said in surprise, "what do you want?"

Lucius gave the two girls his most charming smile, though it was aimed more at Narcissa than at Andromeda. "Since you have yet to find seats, I would like to invite you to my compartment."

Andromeda looked at him as though he had just sprouted a second head. "You want us to sit with you?"

"Oh, absolutely," Lucius replied, winking at Narcissa, who shifted uncomfortably.

Andromeda shrugged. "Okay, why not?"…

* * *

…Their head of house had decided that all Slytherin sixth and seventh-years were to learn how to dance, and since most of the other teachers liked the idea, their Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw classmates would be joining them. Each of them was free to chose a suitable partner, and Lucius instantly began plotting his course, knowing that there was only one girl he wanted to dance with.

"Would it be considered inappropriate if my partner were from another year?" He asked his head of house. The teacher, clearly thinking that Lucius had a fifth or seventh-year girl in mind, shook his head. "No, that should not be a problem, Mr. Malfoy."

Lucius smiled. On to the next step – asking Narcissa.

He found her in the library, studying hard for a Transfigurations exam.

Lucius stepped next to her silently, watching her for a moment, thinking again that she was the most lovely creature he had ever seen, when her head jerked up and she stared at him in astonishment, her lips forming a silent O.

"Lucius! What are you…"

"I apologize, I did not mean to startle you", he said amiably.

"Oh… well, I …" She seemed at a loss for words.

"A word, Narcissa?"

"S-sure." She stacked up her books and followed him out of the library. He towered over her and she seemed like a petite blond ghost in the semidarkness of the corridor.

Elf child, that's what you are…

"I was wondering," Lucius began, trying to put his request into words that would not scare her off, "surely you have heard of the dancing class sixth and seventh-years are obliged to attend?"

Narcissa nodded shyly.

"Good. Well, I was wondering… would you like to accompany me to that class? As my partner, I mean?"

Narcissa stopped short in her tracks and turned to gape at him. Her grey eyes were very wide.

Merlin, I scared her…, Lucius thought, she'll probably run off or start crying, or…

"I… I don't think that would be right, Lucius."

"Why?" He asked, surprised.

"Because you are in sixth year and I am only in third… it just… it isn't right. You do understand don't you?" Her voice was pleading forgiveness for the rejection.

No.

"Are you worried what the others will think? Don't be."

I'll protect you.

"Among… other things," Narcissa admitted. "Please, Lucius… I can't. I'm sorry." And then she ran off. Lucius stared at her retreating form, feeling like somebody had just stabbed him with a hot iron skewer…

* * *

… "Lucius, are you listening to me?" Severus Snape stood in front of him, his arms crossed, his expression exasperated.

"What? No…"

Severus rolled his eyes. For a third year, the boy was pretty cheeky.

"I was just asking you what demon had gotten into you lately. You have been in a foul mood for a good three weeks now, mate. Care to talk about it?"

"With you? No." Lucius frowned.

"You know I can keep a secret," Severus pointed out. "Is it about a girl? I told you about Lily, too."

"But only after I forced the truth out of you at wandpoint. What is it with you and that little mudblood?"

"Don't call her that," Severus retorted angrily. "Besides, you already know. I just… like her, I guess."

"Uh-huh."

"So… do you like a girl, Lucius?"

The boy was persistent; you had to give him that. And to hell with it, what could it hurt? Severus was discreet, after all.

"Narcissa Black," he admitted.

Severus raised his eyebrows. "She's in my year," he remarked, "we are on a team in Herbology."

"You are?" Lucius looked at him with renewed interest.

Severus nodded. "Isn't she… you know, a bit young…?"

"Not you, too," Lucius sighed dramatically, "why is everybody accusing me of being a pervert and a child molester? She is three years younger than me, in the name of Merlin!"

"Which makes her thirteen," Severus countered, "that does make her a bit too young, don't you think?"

"She'll grow up," Lucius replied confidently. "And after all, it's not as if I proposed shagging her. I simply like her."

"Usually, though, one thing leads to the other," Severus said dryly. "Can't you just get another girlfriend and leave her alone till she's sixteen or seventeen? There are enough girls clamoring for the privilege."

"I'm not interested in any of them, though," Lucius brushed it off. "I'll wait for her."

"Be prepared to wait a while, then," Severus advised him. "And beware of Andromeda. If word reaches her that you are after her baby sister, she will carve your insides out with a silver spoon."

Lucius pulled a face at the picture. "I'll be careful."

…


	4. Malfoy Manor

_3. Malfoy Manor_

_Set ca. 2001_

* * *

Malfoy Manor rose from the surrounding country in a mass of grey walls and ivy-clad towers. It stood on a hill, sitting there like a gargoyle in its nest, looking down upon the surrounding countryside, watching it, ruling it. The landscape in these parts of Britain was wild and not without beauty, but the Manor was the only human dwelling for miles in each direction. Much of this land, of rocky hills, forests and little ditches and ponds was Malfoy property.

A steep, winding road, more a path than an actual driveway, snaked up to the main gate. Heavy oakwood, decorated with ironwork barred the way, and the high walls towered ominously over any stray visitor, daring him to try and enter.

To Luna, the Manor looked like a dark and possibly evil twin of Manderley. Even the sea was not too far away, she was certain that you could see it from those tower windows. Much like Hogwarts, the Manor was unplottable and guarded against apparition spells, but the large gate swung open to greet the master of the house of its own account. She didn't want to enter this house, not even the vast park surrounding it, but her feet moved seemingly of their own account, and there was nothing she could do to stop them. Lucius, the bastard, had put her under the Imperius Curse, wanting to spare himself the embarrassment of dragging a kicking and screaming girl off to his lair.

The soft patter of tiny feet sounded to their right, and a house elf appeared on the path next to them. It had truly impressive ears and was clad in a meticulously clean dish-towel bearing the Malfoy family crest.

"Greetings, Master!" It squeaked, and Lucius nodded in return, looking down upon it almost benevolently.

"Good evening, Gytha. Is everything calm and quiet at the house?"

It was an odd question, but it seemed to be important to Lucius.

The house elf – Gytha – nodded eagerly. "Yes, Master. Master Draco was feeling unwell earlier today and is now resting in his chambers. There have been no visitors while you were gone, but one of your owls came back with a letter and Master Severus has sent word that he will attend the dinner you invited him to."

"Has someone sent after a healer for Draco?"

The house elf shifted uncomfortably, as if it had feared that very question. "I am sorry, Master. We wanted to do so, but Master Draco insisted that it was not necessary and said that he wished to be alone."

Lucius sighed, before looking up to the house sharply. "You did not leave him alone, did you?"

"No, Master, of course not!" Gytha assured him.

"Good. Tell your people to have dinner ready at eight o'clock. We will dine in the red room, and I would have the table set for two, but be prepared to add another cover if Draco decides to join us."

Gytha bowed and nodded. "Does master wish to have rooms prepared for his guest?"

Lucius cast a glance at Luna, as if considering where to put her, before nodding his head. "Yes. The west-facing tower room, if you please."

Gytha bowed again, then disappeared.

Considering all that she had heard about Dobby being mistreated in the Malfoy household, Luna was surprised to see how politely Lucius had spoken to this elf. But maybe it had all been for show. For some reason she could not yet make out, he seemed to be eager to appear the perfect gentleman in front of her. It only served to make her even more suspicious than she already was. She did not know for what sinister purposes Lucius had brought her here, but she could make a few educated guesses, and none of them offered any comfort.

Lucius roused her from her thoughts, taking her arm and leading her up the garden path. "Gytha is the head elf of the Manor. Her family has been living here since it was built. It is the oldest and most numerous family of elves that lives here. There are others, but Gytha, her three daughters, two sons and five grandchildren are among my best and most loyal servants. They would rather die than betray the Malfoy family. Some of their relatives have, actually. If you need anything or get lost, call Gytha. She knows the Manor better than I do myself."

"How could I get lost, when you're planning to lock me up in a tower?" Luna asked scathingly.

"I am not planning to lock you up," Lucius replied with a slight frown, "I asked Gytha to prepare the tower room because it has a nice view."

Luna was trying to think of an unfriendly comeback to that, but they had arrived at the door, and Lucius held it open for her. Upon entering the great entrance hall, and despite herself, she gasped. It was beautiful; there was just no other word for it. It had a high ceiling, painted in colors paled with age, but still lively. The themes of the painting mythological, they all depicted scenes from the life of the Greek sorceress Circe. They began with her birth, showing her as a child in the arms of her mother, the Oceanid Perse, with her father, the sun god Helios resplendent in yellow, gold and orange in the background. Others showed her at the wedding of her sister Pasiphae to King Minos of Crete, the murder of her husband, the ruler of Colchis, and her subsequent exile, her relations with Odysseus. The last two showed her being murdered by his son Telemachus, and her daughter Cassiphone's revenge.

The floor, in contrast, was made of intricate wood inlays, and it was hard to decide where to keep your eyes – cast down to admire the woodwork, or looking up to take in the full splendor of the ceiling.

There were three flights of stairs leading down into the hall, one broad and stately, two narrower, curving up in elegant wooden spirals. Four doors, two on each side, led to adjacent rooms and hallways. The entire hall seemed to serve no other purpose than to impress visitors.

How very… Malfoy.

Quiet steps sounded on the smaller stairway to the right, and a man came into sight, his movements carefully measured, almost hesitatingly. He was tall, though not as tall as Lucius, his face looking somewhat haggard, as if he had lost a lot of weight in a short span of time.

Luna almost wouldn't have recognized him, especially since she had expected him to be dead or rotting away in a dungeon akin to hers.

She stared incredulously, her eyes growing larger and larger.

No. It couldn't possibly be –

"Master." The man bowed. He must have seen Luna, but he wasn't looking at her, his eyes concentrating solely on Lucius.

"I hear that Draco is in one of his misanthropic moods," Lucius said, regret or maybe disappointment, clearly audible in his voice. "You should have sent for a healer anyway."

"I did. She left after waiting for two hours in the study, because Draco refused to see her." His voice betrayed no emotion, and his face remained carefully guarded.

Once again, Lucius sighed. "I shall speak to him." His eyes darted to Luna, then he looked back to his servant. "Take care of Miss Lovegood. See to it that her room is prepared and that she gets everything she needs. I will have Gytha send for a tailor tomorrow, but for the time being, magic will have to suffice. She is about Narcissa's size, have the elves adjust some of her clothing for her." He smiled wryly. "Do try to make her more comfortable. She does not trust me, but seeing that the two of you are old friends, maybe she will trust you more."

He turned and left by one of the doors, but not without pausing to mutter the appropriate counter curse and flicking his wand at Luna almost negligently.

Luna was still staring at the man in front of her. "Neville…?" She asked incredulously.

He had changed. A lot. Not only in looks – his unremarkable brown hair was now pulled back in a short, somewhat messy ponytail and he looked years older than the last time she'd seen him -, but there was also an entirely different air about him. This was not the gentle, naïve, clumsy boy she remembered from their school days. This man had been to hell and back, and he had retained the haunted look in his eyes. His face looked as if he would never smile again.

"It is good to see you alive, Luna," he said simply. "Come. You must want to get out of that filthy clothing, wash and rest a little."

"But… but Neville, what are you doing here?"

"I am Lucius Malfoy's personal servant. A slave, if you want, even though he doesn't treat me as such. I serve as the Malfoys' butler, and I try to take care of Master Draco… if he lets me, that is. He doesn't like the idea of having to rely on others."

"_Master_ Draco?"

Neville looked at her, his large eyes clouded with a soft sadness. "A lot of things have changed, Luna."

"What's wrong with Draco?" Not that she was concerned about the spoilt brat, but she wanted to know as much as possible about the Malfoys. It might yet prove useful…

"He is very sick, and has been for a while. You will probably get to see him in the course of the next few days. It is rare for him to leave his apartment for long, but he does come down to have lunch with his father almost every day."

"And Narcissa?"

"Narcissa is dead," Neville replied shortly, before changing the subject: "Come. Lucius Malfoy is a gracious host. I suggest that you take advantage of the comforts of Malfoy Manor while you can."

"But what does he want from me…?" Luna asked almost timidly.

Neville shrugged. "I have no idea. He will tell you in time, I am sure."

Luna had to admit that no matter how she felt about Lucius, soaking in the hot bath and washing off the filth and grime of the dungeon was very close to Heaven on Earth. When she finally left the bathtub, she found soft, plushy towels and a robe laid out for her. There were ebony brushes and combs, inlaid with ivory. Powders and creams and flagons of perfume. When she stepped into the dressing room, she was greeted by an eager house elf, offering her a stack of clothes. They were witches robes, emerald green with tiny golden flowers stitched onto their hem and in a circle around the wrists. There were harem pants of the same exquisite fabric to go with them, and soft leather shoes, as well as undergarments.

Narcissa's robes, Luna thought uncomfortably. It felt odd that she should be wearing them.

The house elf offered to help her, but she shooed it away.

Standing in front of the mirror, she frowned at her image. So Neville looked haggard? Hark who was talking! Sadly, Lucius had been right when he had told her that she wasn't much to look at.

Well, at the very least she felt almost clean now, and she had brushed her hair for the first time in weeks. It had taken quite a while to comb out all the tangles and swirl it into something resembling an orderly knot at the back of her head.

No amount of scrubbing and brushing could clear away the traces of months in captivity and on the run. The pain, fear, hopelessness and misery had etched themselves deeply into her soul and they had left their visible traces on her face and in her eyes, too.

No matter what she did, she would never be the dreamy, dopey girl of sixteen again. And no mask would ever hide her fear.

But for the moment, she was in a warm, comfortable place, and truth be told, that was the best thing that had happened to her in the past few months. She had no idea how long it would last, but while it lasted, she could make the most of it.

_Troubled with looks and cosmetics, are we?_

It was a bit silly, given her position.

A soft knock sounded at the door. "Come in," she said, and found that it was Neville.

"Dinner is served," he announced.

"And Lucius is expecting me, isn't he?" Luna asked, frowning.

Neville nodded. "I am afraid that you won't see Draco tonight."

"Oh that is quite alright… one Malfoy is bad enough, I really don't need two of them."

"Draco has changed, too," was all Neville said in reply.

* * *

_I admit that the story may be a bit confusing right now, given all the time jumps, but I promise it will get easier as we move along. The main intention of the first few chapters is to introduce the main characters and to raise questions that will be answered in later chapters. I do want to pique your curiosity after all. Still, if there is anything that strikes you as too odd or confusing, do tell me. Sadly, I do not have a regular beta reader for my stories, so I rely on the help of my readers when it comes to correcting mistakes and flaws in the storyline._

_And even if you don't find anything to criticise - reviews are always appreciated ;)_


	5. Anonymous Gifts

_5. Anonymous Gifts_

_Set ca. 1968_

_True love is not discouraged by adversity. It can survive even in a hostile environment, a resilient plant waiting in the dark for a glimmer of light and the chance to grow and bear flowers. Whatever the obstacles may be, they will be faced at no matter what cost, if there is only a strong will behind the tender sentiment. True love waits, impatiently but brave, until the time for conquest has come…_

* * *

…"Why are you so happy?" Severus asked suspiciously, eyeing his friend and substitute older brother warily. They were in a secluded corner of the common room and free to talk privately, since Avery hat left to look for one of his classmates and Nott was snoring away peacefully in an armchair. "You look like the cat that got the canary. I can almost see the yellow feathers sticking out of your mouth…"

Lucius offered him a smug grin. "Seventh year. That means, Andromeda has finally graduated and won't be in the way any longer, whispering lies into her little sister's ear. _And_ Narcissa is wearing the bracelet I gave her for her birthday."

Severus looked confused.

"She turned fourteen in August," Lucius elaborated.

"I noticed the bracelet in class, when she handed me potions ingredients," Severus remembered suddenly, "but only because it looked way too elaborate to wear in school. Intertwining holly and rose branches, one made of platinum, and the other of gold, complete with tiny rubies as the holly berries and rose quartz for the flowers…? You are nuts, my friend. Or maybe you simply have too much money to spend and don't know what to do with it."

"It's goblin made," Lucius said, ignoring the last comment, "and there are two enchantments upon it, one to protect and one to encourage."

"How in the name of Merlin did you get her to accept that? She'd barely even look at you after the dance class fiasco."

"She doesn't know it's from me," Lucius admitted, "I sent it anonymously. She sent a lovely thank-you-note back with the same owl, though."

"Oh," Severus said. "Er… that might not be such a bad idea, you know. She is obviously a bit intimidated by you, and you don't want to scare her, do you?"

"Absolutely not," Lucius agreed…

* * *

…Halloween found a couple of enterprising Gryffindors, among them Severus' nemesis James Potter and his sidekick Sirius Black, whose only virtue in the eyes of Lucius was that he happened to be a pureblood and a cousin of Narcissa, deciding to prank their Slytherin classmates. Now the idea to unleash a litter of treasure-hungry Nifflers on the Slytherin girl dormitories might have seemed funny to them, but the pranksters apparently ignored the fact that Iris and Isis Hawk, Slytherin fifth year twins were the proud owners of two Kneazles… and Kneazles in general are anything but fond of Nifflers. It was pandemonium unleashed.

The Kneazles fought to defend their territory, the Nifflers fought back and tried to get away with their newly found treasures, several girls joined in the fight alongside the two catlike familiars, while others fell into fits of hysteria.

Half the inhabitants of the Slytherin boy's dormitories rushed to their female housemates' aid, among them Lucius and Severus, the latter proving very apt at chasing Nifflers.

Lucius, in turn, had the privilege of taking a sobbing Narcissa up to the infirmary, after she had been bitten trying to wring her bracelet from an enraged Niffler, who was attempting to get away with it. Lucius had stomped on the Niffler, breaking its neck, and at the same moment sworn bloody revenge to any Gryffindor associated with the prank.

"It took my bracelet," Narcissa told him, holding her injured hand. "And then I tried to get it back, and then it bit me."

Lucius had witnessed all of this himself, but he assumed that she was simply in shock.

"Hush," he tried to calm her. "It will be alright. It is not a deep bite. Does it hurt very much?"

Narcissa shook her head, but there were still tears in her eyes.

She cried easily, Lucius noticed, but somehow he found it endearing. It made him want to protect her against all evil and chase after anybody who dared to even think about harming her…

* * *

… "I just overheard a couple of girls talking," Severus said, "Gillian Fortescue and Loupe Ferrier; they are Ravenclaws, both in my year. It seems that they are friends with Narcissa, and guess what…? She just received another gift from her anonymous suitor. It's the third one now." There was clearly an undertone of disapproval in his voice.

Lucius looked up from his book. "Oh?" He said, raising his eyebrows.

"Lucius…" Severus warned, "this infatuation of yours is quickly becoming an obsession. In fact, you already seem pretty obsessed to me."

"It's only little things," Lucius replied, trying to shrug it off, "small tokens of appreciation."

"Like the bracelet?" Severus asked acidly.

"The bracelet was special. This time, I only sent her chocolate."

"No, you sent her Belgian chocolate, expressly ordered from Brussels."

"So? She likes chocolate."

Severus rolled his eyes. "You don't understand, do you? You can't buy her favor."

"Oh, I know," Lucius replied calmly, "that's why I never sign the notes with my own name."

"But what do you want to accomplish?"

"I told you I'd wait for her to grow up. While I'm waiting, I can at least amuse myself by making her smile, can't I?"

"What if she develops a crush on somebody else, say a boy from her own year? Girls constantly fall in and out of love."

"She won't."

"How can you be so sure?" And after Lucius didn't reply and looked down at his book again: "Lucius…? Don't tell me there's something about those gifts that would impede her from forming an attachment to somebody else… what is it? Amortentia in the pralines? A spell on the necklace?"

Lucius looked up at him, his eyes burning with a pale flame. "You are on the verge of getting hexed yourself."

"It's the bracelet, isn't it?"

"She is mine," Lucius hissed, "I will not let anybody take her from me."

"But you have to respect her wishes! You can't just force her to be with you!"

"I most certainly can. But I will not. I want her to love me, and sooner or later, she will. Once I am free to court her as I please, she will see that I am willing to give her everything she desires, be it material or immaterial."

"Hiding behind formal language won't help," Severus advised him, "so what did you do to her?"

Lucius was glaring daggers at him. "There's a fidelity charm on the bracelet," he finally admitted.

"You do know that that is highly illegal, don't you? You can impose a fidelity charm on your wife, or maybe your fiancée, but not on a girl totally unconnected to you."

"I don't care!" Lucius fumed. "You keep your big nose out of this, Severus. It's my business and I won't have you interfere with it."

"Be reasonable. You barely even know her."

"How much do I need to know to see that she's lovely? Besides, I know her family."

"Of course," Severus snorted, "pureblood alliances, how could I have forgotten…? So you saw them at a couple of fancy dinner parties and you are friends with the oldest sister, Bella, and her husband; but other than that? You despise the middle sister, and have you ever had a real conversation with Narcissa herself? Do you know which books she reads, who her friends are, what Quidditch team she supports? Do you know what her favorite subject is, what she dreams of, what she fears?"

"Ah, and I suppose _you_ know?" Lucius asked scathingly.

Severus shrugged. "She is in my year. We get along. I know that her best subjects are Herbology, Potions and Transfiguration and that she hates Defense Against the Dark Arts and History of Magic. She has a mortal fear of heights; it was a real drama trying to get her on a broom in first year. And she is afraid of you, Lucius, because she doesn't understand what you want from her. You never actually bothered to explain yourself and she can't believe that the fabulously rich, hugely popular heir of Malfoy Manor would be interested in the Black family's runt of the litter. She doesn't see herself as anything special, you know. It's what I like about her, she is very modest. It probably comes from having Bella and Andromeda as older sisters."

"But she _is_ special." Lucius protested.

"To you. To her father, her family and almost everybody else, she's just the docile, shy younger sister of Bella und Andromeda Black, who are loud, boastful and headstrong. She is not like Lily Evans, who knows that she is one of the most popular girls in school, despite being Muggleborn."

"And who has at least a dozen boys fighting over her," Lucius added.

Severus frowned. "It's not that many."

"Mainly you and Potter, no?"

"That's private, Lucius."

"Hey! We are dissecting my love life on a regular basis; I don't see why we couldn't talk about yours for a change."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"_Of course_ not." Lucius smirked. "Anyway, Narcissa is a lot prettier than Lily Evans."

"That's a matter of opinion," Severus murmured.

* * *

Lucius, who knew enough about life at Spinner's End to at least feel apprehensive about it, had invited Severus to spend Christmas at Malfoy Manor.

Lord Malfoy was not amused. "That halfblood boy is bad company for you, and now you want to bring him into our house to meet your mother and sisters?"

Lucius rolled his eyes. "Father, please. Severus is not responsible for his parentage and his mother his from a good family. They are old blood, the Princes."

"She married a _Muggle_," Abraxas Malfoy spat.

"Yes, and he is a bastard. But his son does not deserve our scorn. He is one of the best students in his year and unrivalled in both Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. He is three years younger than me, but he probably knows more about magic than me and all of my classmates together. What I am saying, father, is that Severus Snape is extraordinarily talented, and I have no doubt that he will one day be a very valuable person to have around. I do not chose my friends for sentimental reasons, you taught me to do better than that."

"Huh." Abraxas Malfoy studied his son's calm, serious face for a moment, but then he nodded slowly. "Very well, Lucius, you may bring him. But you had better make sure that your sister Selena does not get too interested in him… if you get my meaning."

Lucius had to strain himself to keep from laughing at that idea. Selena and Severus…? Not in this lifetime!

"I sincerely doubt that Selena would find him attractive. She is a vain, flippant creature, and Severus' valor lies in his brilliant mind, not in his physical appearance."

"Close your mouth, Sev. Have you never been to a Christmas party?" Lucius said, grinning at his friend's look of astonishment. The Malfoy Manor's great ballroom had been redecorated to host the annual family ceremony on Christmas Eve. The great Christmas tree, sparkling with hundreds of lights, was decorated with glittering ornaments, as well as real snow, charmed against melting, and spanned its branches over a vast sea of artfully wrapped presents. Lucius' little sister was circling the tree like a vulture. She was dressed up in golden robes, her blond curls artfully arranged and decorated with a ribbon, and she looked like a perfect little china doll, but for the mischief dancing in her pale green eyes.

"Harpy, don't you dare to steal one of the presents," Lucius warned her.

"But the blue ones are mine!" She protested.

"Yes, but you will have to wait until tomorrow."

"Why?" She pouted, crossing her arms and looking perfectly adorable in her childish indignation.

"Its tradition."

"I don't like tradition. When I am grown up and have my own house, I will always open my presents on Christmas Eve!"

Lucius laughed. "Tell you what, Harpy – how about that: you marry Severus when you are grown up, and then the two of you can always invite me for Christmas and we break tradition together."

Harpy looked at Severus with renewed interest. "Are you rich?"

He shook his head, looking puzzled.

"Powerful?"

"No."

"Not yet," Lucius amended, "maybe one day."

"Pureblood?"

"Unfortunately not."

"Then I can't marry you. Sela says I have to marry somebody who is either good-looking or rich and powerful, and that he has to be a pureblood. I'm sorry." She smiled apologetically.

Both Lucius and Severus laughed at that.

"It's okay, Harpy," Lucius comforted her, "Severus already likes somebody else anyway."

"Oh? Who is…" – but she could not finish and instead stared at her big brother, frozen by a stunning spell.

Severus swung around wildly, wand at the ready.

Lucius, who was unable to move did not have to wait long before his attacker stepped into sight – Andromeda Black, clad in festive silver gray robes, was rushing toward him, her wand hand held up and outstretched. And as for her motive for stunning him, well…

"Lucius Malfoy; how dare you molest my little sister!"

Her voice was loud enough to make at least a dozen nearby relatives and family friends look up. Lucius was livid with anger.

He'd kill her. Slowly. Painfully.

"Er… Andromeda, I think you may have misunderstood something," Severus came to his aid.

"Misunderstood?" Andromeda snapped. "How could I have misunderstood?! She is fourteen, Lucius, fourteen! A child! How could you…!"

Severus raised his wand, muttering the counter curse, but Lucius had already spotted another problem. His mother, having noticed the commotion, was moving quickly through the crowd, accompanied by Andromeda's father Cygnus Black.

"Are you completely crazy, woman?" He hissed. "I never touched your sister, I never even spoke an inappropriate word…!"

"Liar," Andromeda snapped, "I saw the letters you sent, the gifts, and she showed me the bracelet. I found the charm you placed on it, Lucius. What a vile thing to do, cursing a gift that she accepted not thinking anything of it!"

"It is not a curse! I would _never_curse Narcissa!"

"But you would deceive her and ensnare her, yes? If you ever come near her again, I will…"

"Andromeda?" Cygnus Black's booming voice interrupted them. He was stepping closer, his brows furrowing. "What are you arguing about?"

"Is there a problem?" Sylvaine Malfoy asked innocently, looking at her son and Andromeda.

"Lu said that Meda was crazy," Harpy informed her, "and Meda said that Lu cursed her sister. Did you really curse her, Lu? What was it like? Did she turn into a toad?"

"What sort of nonsense is this?" Cygnus Black demanded. "I will not have you interrupting this party by your nonsensical conspiracy theories, Andromeda. I already told you to keep your opinions to yourself. Did I not make myself clear enough?"

"No, father, I…" Andromeda began, but faltered.

"It was a misunderstanding," Lucius said quickly, "Narcissa showed Andromeda an enchanted bracelet that I gave her for her birthday and Andromeda misunderstood the gesture for something else."

Cygnus turned to look at him, a flicker of interest on his broad, unhandsome face. "I have seen that bracelet. It was a very generous gift." He paused a moment then asked: "What are your intentions towards my daughter, Lucius?"

"Which one of them?" Lucius asked innocently.

Cygnus raised his brows. "All of them, if you please."

"Towards Bellatrix friendship, I like both her and Rodolphus very well. Towards Andromeda, to avoid her, if at all possible, since we appear to misunderstand each other at every possible opportunity. Towards Narcissa… well… it may seem premature, but in a couple of years or so, there will be few girls more desirable as prospective brides, especially given the already existing connection between our families. Considering that, I am trying to stay on good terms with her." It was a risky move, but it would take the wind out of Andromeda's sails… or so he hoped.

Cygnus looked first puzzled then pleased. "I see," he said. "I will make a mental note of that. If you feel the same way in a couple of years, come talk to me again."

Lucius inclined his head. "I certainly will, Sir."

He felt elated, but he did not miss the murderous look Andromedasent him_._


	6. Two Promises

_6. Two Promises_

_Set ca. 2001_

* * *

As she followed Neville down the winding tower stairs, through a flight of hallways and into the luxuriously furnished rooms of the Manor's main wing, Luna thought about how strange it felt to even be here. She still had no idea what exactly it was that had moved Lucius Malfoy to bring her to his home. Yet much as she despised the man, she had to admit that it felt good, terribly good, to be finally clean, properly dressed and out in the open air and light. Outside, the day was quickly darkening into night, but compared to Luna's dungeon cell, the vast rooms and many lights of Malfoy Manor were like paradise regained. She was still on edge, though; she knew she couldn't let down her guard. Not under these circumstances. Neville's presence had comforted her a little, but she was still trying to figure out the role he played in this game.

She had lost sight of him amid the chaos and the confusion following Dumbledore's death. The followers of the Dark Lord had hunted down the last remaining rebels mercilessly, capturing and imprisoning anyone they merely suspected of harboring sympathies for the old regime, or even killing them on sight. They had been scattered, running for their lives, trying to survive. All hope of forming a resistance movement or staging a new rebellion had been lost. They had lost their leaders first. With Dumbledore dead, others had attempted to hold the movement together, but they had fallen quickly. Minerva, Remus, Fred and George Weasley, Ron, who had never wanted to be a leader... after the death of three of his brothers, his father and his sister, Bill Weasley had taken his mother and his wife to France and gone into hiding somewhere on the continent. Charlie, Luna assumed, was with them.

Others had been captured; friends from school and their families, all gone now, or so she had heard. Susan and Seamus, Dean, Padma and Cho.

Hermione had disappeared, whether she was dead or still on the run, Luna could not tell.

And Neville... the last she had heard of him was that he had been caught. And after that, nothing.

Yet here he was. In the least likely of places, serving his enemies.

Lucius seemed to trust him, which was strange enough, considering that they had been on opposite sides of the fence for most of Neville's life, but it was even stranger that Neville should serve and respect a man who was in league with the people who had tortured his parents. And Draco…? Draco had been one of the people who had tried their best to make Neville's life at school hell on earth.

'_Draco has changed, too.' I wonder what that's supposed to mean, _Luna mused, as Neville led her into a small, equally beautifully furnished dining room on the ground floor. Its walls were painted a deep shade of crimson, and the dishcloth and draperies matched them in color. There was a Persian rug on the floor beneath the table and the walls were decorated with charcoal drawings lined by delicate, ornamental frames.

Lucius was already sat at the table that was indeed set for two people, as he had asked of Gytha. Neville, after politely helping Luna to sit down at the opposite end of the table, moved to his side.

Lucius looked up at his servant, then at his unwilling guest and briefly appeared startled. He opened his mouth as if to say something, and then closed it, shaking his head, looking almost angry. "Master Draco will not be coming down to dinner?" Neville asked. It was phrased like a question, but sounded more like statement.

"No." Lucius frowned.

"I see," Neville replied, and Luna had the sneaking suspicion that more had passed between the two of them than those few words. "Will you need anything else?"

Lucius shook his head. "Gytha can take care of it. You may go."

"Very well." Neville nodded, then left, slipping out of the room unobtrusively. The moment he was gone, Luna wished he hadn't left. It would have been nice to have at least one friendly face about.

"What did you do to him?" She asked accusingly.

Lucius looked up. "Me? Not much. But others have done more. He is not the boy you remember, is he?" _Far from it. _She wondered what had happened to Neville in the years since they had left Hogwarts. He had been on the run for a time, they all had been. Then caught. But after that...?

"I'm probably not the girl he remembers, either," Luna replied with more honesty than she'd intended.

Lucius gazed at her for a moment, apparently considering her statement, and nodded slowly. "No, you probably aren't."

"So… why am I here…?" Luna asked bluntly, hoping that he wouldn't see her lips quaver and the panic she tried to hide behind her hostile expression. _Never let them see that you're afraid…it'll only make things worse._

Lucius shrugged. "Captured muggleborns and the half- and pureblood followers of Dumbledore are given as gifts to the loyal followers of the Dark Lord. Slaves are a valuable commodity, and it is a way to punish enemies and reward friends at the same time. Having served the Dark Lord for over twenty years, I am naturally one of those who receive such rewards… especially considering that I'm entitled to compensation for the loss of Narcissa."

"So I'm what…? Part of the loot? A thing for you to toy with?" Luna snapped furiously. "First Crabbe and now you?"

Lucius sighed and reached across the table for a crystal decanter, filled with blood red wine. He picked up two appropriate glasses from the assortment on the table and carefully poured wine into them, before pushing one in direction of Luna.

"Don't worry, it is not poisoned. Nor is the food," he said wryly. "Now, let us get some things straightened out… I am not particularly fond of slavery as an institution, but I approve of it when it helps to save lives that would otherwise be lost. Though I am sure Neville Longbottom does not share my opinion on the matter. He would tell you that death is infinitely preferable to some forms of slavery, and he may have a point. Still… that does not apply to you. You may not be aware of this, but you have been incredibly lucky so far. Fate placed you in the hands of a captor who had no particular interest in you, and only took you, because he wouldn't refuse a gift given to him by his master. As Crabbe shares his master's sexual predilections and is too squeamish for the more bloody entertainments of his kin, he did not really know what to do with you."

"He was planning on giving me to his son for his birthday," Luna said, unable to suppress a shudder at the thought.

Lucius nodded. "That makes sense, yes. I am quite convinced that this was done on purpose – that Crabbe was given a slave he was not interested in, instead of the one he had specifically asked for."

"Why?"

"Crabbe has a powerful enemy, who has our Lord's undivided attention, whenever he so much as enters the room. This would be exactly the sort of thing he would do to somebody he dislikes." He looked at her directly. "I am sure you know who…?"

Luna's fingernails painfully dug into her palms. "Harry Potter."

"Indeed."

"So he is still there."

"If by _'there_' you mean the Dark Lord's bed, then yes, he is. And he would certainly know about Crabbe's preferences and make sure they were disregarded. I never thought I would say this, but for once, I am indebted to him." Lucius frowned, as if the thought displeased him. Luna could not blame him. Only to think of Harry, bloody-handed, innocent-eyed Harry, filled her with unspeakable fury and repugnance. There were no words for what he had done. Betrayal did not even begin to cover it.

It was strange, but she had the distinct impression that Lucius shared her sentiments. Which would make sense, since most of the Death Eaters were as appalled as everybody else at their Lord's choice in lovers, and while they might grudgingly accept it, they certainly did not like the former arch-enemy turned toyboy.

"So… what is _your_ interest in me?" Luna asked warily. "Presuming that you did not take me away from Crabbe merely to annoy him."

Lucius smirked. "That may have been a part of it. But it was not my actual incentive." He took a sip of wine, before carefully placing the glass on the table and leaning back in his chair.

"I made two promises, years ago. The first to my wife, who was in a desperate situation back then, and the second to myself. Narcissa only ever knew about the first. I will tell you the full story when you are ready and willing to hear it, but for now, the condensed version will do. My marriage to Narcissa was an arranged marriage. That is not uncommon among the old pureblood families, even though many of us now regard the custom as old fashioned and not conductive to personal happiness. I knew Narcissa from school, and because our fathers had moved in the same circles, and I was very much in love with her. She did not share the sentiment, but she submitted herself to her father's wishes. Old Cygnus Black wanted to get her off his hands. After the disaster with his second daughter, Andromeda, who had eloped with a Muggle, he was glad to see her properly married. Narcissa did not love me, but she accepted her situation gracefully… Narcissa was graceful in everything she did. I know she was glad to get out of her father's house and presence, and she wanted to have children. So when Draco was born, we were both reasonably happy. Unfortunately, though, our happiness was not meant to last. Draco was not yet five months old, when Narcissa committed what she herself would call her _horrible mistake_. It was not really her fault, but she blamed herself the rest of her life."

Lucius was staring past Luna, out of the window and into the past. "Narcissa had a twin brother named Ash. They were not raised together, because like his sister, Ash was not Cygnus Black's biological child. Ash was raised by his true father, while Narcissa stayed with her older half-sisters Bellatrix and Andromeda in the Black household. They had not seen each other in years, when suddenly, Ash came to call on his sister. At first, Narcissa was delighted; she had always missed her brother. I was suspicious, but not suspicious enough to voice my objections. In hindsight, I think I am as much to blame as Narcissa, if she is to blame at all. Not long after he had reappeared, Ash took Narcissa to a family party, and they never returned that night. I searched for them far and wide, but I could find no traces of either of them. I have never again seen Ash after that day. Narcissa eventually reappeared, when I had almost given up every hope of finding her again. One night I found her in the park, huddled beneath a tree, crying. She was in a horrible state, frightened, ashamed, and sick. I carried her back into the house and called for a healer. Word by word, I coaxed the story of all that had happened out of her, a story that sounded like a fairy-tale, thought up by her feverish mind, but I know that she would never have lied to me. She was frantic with guilt. It took her years to recover, and I am not sure she ever fully did. Little over a month later, Narcissa's second child was born – her child, but not mine. It was a daughter. Narcissa did not want to see her, but begged me to take her and make sure she would be hidden away and never learn of her true origins. I complied. That was my first promise." He looked back up, straightly at Luna, and there was a strange sadness in his face. "The second was to make sure that the child would not suffer for her parents' mistakes. That she would grow up like any other child, raised in a loving family, that she would never be hurt." He paused. "I almost failed. I know that you will not believe me at first, but hear me out. You, Miss Lovegood, are that child. Therefore, I should rightly call you Miss Black, because you are the daughter of Narcissa Black and her brother Ash."

Luna's head spun, and she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. "Her own _brother_?!"

"Yes, but do not blame Narcissa for that. It was not her doing, but somebody else's. Somebody who is older and more malicious than any human being could imagine. It is of no importance now… and neither of us can do anything about it. All that matters is that I managed to keep my promise, if barely… I got you away from Crabbe, before any serious harm could come to you. I apologize for not coming to your rescue sooner, but my rank among the Death Eaters is not as secure a footing as it used to be. It took me a while and some careful planning to get you out without arousing suspicion."

"And I am supposed to believe that…? That _Narcissa_ was my mother and that you are doing all this to honor her wishes?" Luna asked incredulously.

"I would ask you to believe it, but I realize that this must be difficult for you. For the moment, I would be content if you accepted that I mean you no harm. You are free to leave Malfoy Manor whenever you want to, though I would advise against it. You are reasonably safe here. The world is a rather evil place right now, and the little charade I thought up will serve to protect you… at least for a little while."

"Is there anything… anybody who can confirm what you just told me?" No, she didn't believe him. She did not want believe him. She had had a mother and father, and their names had not been Narcissa and Ash… he was just enjoying a cruel joke at her expense…

"Apart from Ash himself… only Draco. But he has heard the story from me, so he is not the most reliable source."

"He believes that I am his sister?" Luna asked appalled.

"He is willing to accept it."

"Huh."

She had not touched the food a quiet house elf had put in front of her. By now, it was probably growing cold. Hunger rose in her stomach, making it clench an leaving her with a feeling of nausea. She decided that this was a battle she could only lose.

"So why bring me here?" She asked Lucius between two bites.

"It pains me to say this, but I know no other safe place in this country right now. There may be some... not all of your rebel friends were captured, nor have they all fled to the continent. But wherever they are hiding out, I am not privy to their secrets. There was no choice but to bring you here. This is my sphere of influence. I have strong wards and loyal servants and my reputation serves me as a shield... at least it has, so far. Both the Dark Lord and his little bed warmer harbor little love for me, and some contempt, but there is respect, too. And they do not fear me. Malfoy Manor has always been a predictable player in the great political game."

_He really does not like Harry_, Luna thought, almost amused. What surprised her, though, was that Lucius did not seem to be the fanatical follower of the Dark Lord she had always assumed he was.

_He did what he did for political gain, for power and security. Not for love. Smart man._

Smarter than she had been.


End file.
